The David Duval Interview
By Jock | April 27, 2008
Category: Dr. Chet Stephens
Here’s what transpired when America’s #1 Incarcerated Advice Columnist, Chet Stephens, sat down with America’s #1 Disgraced Golfer, David Duval.
Chet: Greetings, David. First of all, let me thank you for coming into prison yard and visiting with me today. I understand you have a busy schedule. So, on behalf of all the Phillyjock readers, I want to thank you.
David: Not a problem, Dr. Stephens. In fact, your column a few weeks ago about expiration dates on wedding rings changed my life. So it’s an honor to be here, sir.
Chet: You’re too kind, David. But please don’t talk to me like I’m Jim Nantz. I’m not your father.
David: Sorry.
Chet: Now then, let’s get right to it. I notice you’re still wearing your trademark wrap-around sunglasses. Do you feel they are still intimidating to other golfers—similar to, say, Brian Dawkins wearing a dark visor—or are they no longer a factor because you are currently unable to break 90?
David: You know it’s funny, but when I play with other golfers these days—mostly they just laugh. Not like an out-loud Ha-Ha laugh, either, but more of a twittish giggle, like girls do in high school when they see that another girl has put on, say, 50-60 pounds in the summer. Lots of finger-pointing and snickering and wincing. That’s generally the reaction I get to the present state of my golf swing.
Chet: I see. That’s usually what happens when I tell people I’ve been married five times. So anyway, tell us: what exactly are you doing with yourself?
David: I’m really fortunate to be working at a nice club in the Philadelphia area.
Chet: Really? So you’re the pro there?
David: Well, no, not exactly. I wouldn’t really call myself the “pro.” I guess it’s not really a club, but more of, like, a practice facility.
Chet: You mean a driving range?
David: Yes. That’d be a more accurate term.
Chet: I see. So you’re giving lessons out there? Kind of like a David Leadbetter thing? Are you writing any books?
David: Well, no, not at this moment. But I want to leave that door open for the future. I’m thinking about the title: 59 Way To Kill Yourself; one for every stroke of my record-breaking final round at the 1999 Bob Hope Classic. Kind of catchy, don’t you think?
Chet: Not just catchy. It’s dynamic. Nearly as dynamic as Colin Montgomerie’s new tome: How to Lose 100 Pounds in Six Minutes; and other stories from London Whorehouses. That’s one of my all-time favorites.
David: Oh, I haven’t read that one. Sounds saucy. That Montie, he’s a real blowhard. But until I get to writing I’m just kind of biding my time, you know, taking it easy and enjoying my time out of the spotlight. I’m down at Long Knockers now, in Strawberry Mansion. Have you heard of it?
Chet: What I’m gathering from this conversation, David [Chet consults his notes], and correct me if I’m wrong, is that after being the #1 ranked player in the world, and making millions of dollars in the late nineties, you are currently working at a driving range for $9-an-hour as one of those guys who drives around in the caged cart and picks up the balls?
David: That’s correct. Top of the food-chain, brother!
Chet: You know, now that I think about it, you’re right. To think that human beings have evolved to the point where that can actually be one’s calling in life—to ride around in a caged golf cart, picking up balls—I’m not sure how it can get any better. It’s like the equivalent of being inside some giant wire-framed piñata on wheels. Basically you are the striking point of the entire world’s frustrations. It just works on so many levels. Congratulations.
David: Thanks. Thanks a lot. I have to admit, though, there have been some cutbacks at Long Knockers recently. It’s not like the old days.
Chet: Do tell.
David: Well, last year the cart broke down, so now we’re doing the retrievals manually. Which means that every morning I strap on an old 49ers helmet and run out there with a broom and a snow shovel and try to scoop up as many balls as I can. I’ve suffered some brain damage, but nothing worse than those nights I used to have out with John Daly in Memphis. The strippers, the midgets, the open-faced sand wedges, that was crazy!
[Prison Guard comes over, instructs Chet to wrap it up]
Chet: Well, I suppose that’s my cue. Thanks again for coming in, David. No doubt your journey will inspire millions. Is there one last illuminating tidbit you want to leave your fans before you slip back to oblivion and we never hear from you again?
David: Yeah, enjoy it while you’re on top, because you never know when you’re going to be back down on the bottom again.
Chet: Do you mean that sexually, or out on the golf course?
David: Same thing. Someone’s always getting screwed, right?
Chet: I couldn’t have said it better myself.